through the gate and into the square of pavement, which was surrounded by a line of columns and covered doorways. Several other monks glided like shadows under the arches, going prayerfully about their business.

"What business, if I may ask, has brought you this far?" said the monk.

'That be a good question," said Duncan, "For I am not sure what my business is, to be honest. I carry my business in this bag, and to this moment I know not what it means!"

"Very curious," remarked the monk, "Perhaps you would be better served to have audience with our holy Abbot?"

'That would please me well," said Duncan.

The monk said no more words. Duncan followed him down a line of columns and through a heavy oak door into a stone hall. At the end of the hall, he was shown into a bare room, but for some books in a shelf, a table, and two plain chairs. Seated behind the desk, in an attitude of prayerful concentration, sat a balding, and rather over-weight man, who looked not less that sixty years of age.

"Come in! Come in!" said the Friar, rising from his seat in welcome, "Please avail yourself of a chair."

Duncan sat down.

"You are ... er, Duncan, from the village of Northstone.. .am I right?"

"You are indeed. You have a fine memory."

"I visit you once a year, dear brother. It is my duty before God to know the names of all my children."

Duncan waited for the smiling man, whose head was as smooth as a newly set cheese, to say something more but he did not, and after a long silence Duncan realized it was his turn to speak.

"I have been troubled lately," he began, "By the finding of a parchment."

"A parchment?" said the Friar, surprised, "We have lost none. Are you sure it is perhaps a portion of our Lord's holy Word, or some other form of writing?"

"Of that I am not sure," replied Duncan, "It is terrible hard to read, and I am not learned at letters. You will know where its author lies, if you read it. That be why I brought it to you?"

"I am pleased that you confide your troubles with me,"